For Educational Purposes Only
by Keelywolfe
Summary: Sam and Mikaela have questions and they look to Ratchet for answers. Primus help them all. Slash. Optimus/Ratchet, hinted Sam/Bee/Mikaela
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **For Educational Purposes Only  
**Author:** Keelywolfe  
**Fandom:** Transformers: Bayverse**  
****Pairing(s):** Optimus/Ratchet, hinted Sam/Bee/Mikaela  
**Warning:** Sticky

**Notes:** I actually wrote this for the Transformers Kink meme, but I got it all tweaked up and now I'm posting here, kinda so I can prove I'm actually writing something, albeit the wrong something, but hey. I'm pretty fond of Optimus/Ratchet, so sue me. ;)

My first time attempting to write 'sticky', should I warn for that? Then consider yourself warned. I'm also supposed to suggest not drinking while reading, so there you go. Might write more on this, not sure yet. Enjoy!

* * *

Ratchet glared at Bumblebee. "Please tell me you didn't drag them all the way to the base just so they could ask me this."

One would think Bee had nothing better to do than to entertain their little human friends. Normally, Ratchet wouldn't mind. Have a little fun, watch a movie, nothing he was doing right this moment was so important that he couldn't put it off until tomorrow and he probably would even have been flattered that Sam and Mikaela would choose to include him. Inventorying supplies was boring enough to put a mech into recharge.

He had to admit, if nothing else, the conversation was keeping him awake.

Bee only gave him a helpless shrug, played a quick blurb from some sitcom about 'kids these days'. Right, like Ratchet was going to believe that Bumblebee hadn't put them up to this, somehow.

"C'mon Ratchet, why not?" Sam wheedled. He was sorting through a box of various gears, separating them by size, as Ratchet firmly believed that anyone who was in the medbay and not leaking some sort of fluid should be put to work. It did give a certain amount of credibility to his determination on the subject at hand; teenage boys weren't usually known for their work ethic, even ones who had saved the world.

"No," Ratchet said, not looking up from his data pad. "And I cannot begin to fathom why either of you would be interested in seeing how mechs interface."

"We just are," Mikaela put in, tucking a long strand of her dark hair behind one ear as she dug through her own box of parts. They had been here for several hours now, both of them streaked with grease from the elbows down, and a neat stack of cartons full of sorted parts behind them a testament to their determination. Bumblebee had his own pile of equipment that was too heavy for the humans to lift, organizing it with the meticulousness that Ratchet had come to expect from the little scout. If Ratchet put them off long enough it was just possible he'd get the entire med bay sorted out.

"No one is 'just' anything. When your mother birthed you, your first concerns were not in seeing me getting it on," Ratchet said dryly. "So I ask again, why would you want to see this?"

Instead of answering, Sam challenged him with a question of his own, "Why won't you show us? You aren't shy. You've asked us dozens of questions about sex AND made us watch all those porn clips, just so you could get some answers about them."

Hm. That was true. Damned humans and their logic. "The difference between that and your request is that I had a genuine scientific interest about the subject of human sexuality. YOU are asking out of some perverted curiosity that will likely fuel some erotic reaction."

"Same difference," Mikaela shrugged. She wrinkled her nose as she found a particularly greasy and filthy piece of equipment and set it aside to be cleaned before adding it the correct pile.

It was enough to make a mech's processor ache. "Same difference? That doesn't even make sense and I may not be shy but I'm also not sure that I want to be part of some masturbatory fantasy of either of yours afterward."

"It doesn't have to make sense and I seriously doubt I'm going to get the urge to masturbate about you. Look, how about we make you a deal?" Mikaela said, and the crafty gleam in her eye made Ratchet suspicious. Without even considering it, he allotted more RAM to his logic processors because Primus knew he needed it when dealing with these humans. "You give us a demonstration in how mechs interface and we'll give you one on how humans have sex."

"_What?_" Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Sam all said, each with a different tone and inflection, Sam's certainly being the shrillest, Ratchet's the most intrigued and Bumblebee's ripped from a popular movie.

"Mikaela," Sam started, panicked, his box forgotten as he leapt to his feet, "This is—"

"Totally fair," Mikaela cut in, hands on her hips leaving greasy streaks on her jeans. "He's right, you know, we're asking him to do something weird and he's taking the chance that we'll turn into kinky mech perverts after we see it. It's only fair he get some compensation."

Sam's mouth worked slowly, a bright flush spreading over his face. Absently, Ratchet tracked his pheromone levels and decided the boy wasn't nearly as appalled by the idea as he pretended. "Compensation does seem like it would be appropriate," Ratchet agreed, evenly.

The boy might not risk glaring at his chosen mate, but Ratchet had no such guarantees. He met it with a calm gaze of his own. Quid pro quo, Samuel. The boy considered it for a long moment, his glare fading.

"We get to stay under a sheet," Sam said firmly. As if that would offer any protection.

"I get to run any scans that I want," Ratchet countered.

"And we use a condom," Mikaela put it. "You can track sperm routes on your own time."

Ratchet turned a deeply offended look to the kid's partner in various crimes. "Of course, I wouldn't ask you to endure a pregnancy for my own curiosity!"

Yet.

The three of them sustained another long glare that somehow managed to be mutual until finally Sam sighed gustily, flopping back to the floor. "Fine. You can watch us."

"Fine," Ratchet agreed and a trill of anticipation went through his circuits. Finally he would get to run those deep scans, oh, he couldn't wait, he'd need to calibrate his-

"Hold on, I'm not done," Mikaela broke through his thoughts and Ratchet rolled his optics. Of course she wasn't. "You have to go first."

"What?" Ratchet finally slapped down his data pad, hard enough that the screen flickered. "You are the ones who brought this up, why should I go first?"

"Because I said so," Mikaela said, smugly.

It was logic like that that made humans so difficult to deal with.

Ratchet sighed and gave in. "Fine. Let me contact Optimus and see if he has time for a short demonstration."

"Optimus?" Mikaela and Sam echoed, equal parts intrigued and appalled, and Ratchet returned his glare to them.

"Is that a problem?" he asked with deceptive politeness, his tone promising great trouble if it was.

"Nope, not at all," Mikaela said hastily.

"No, no, that would be great," Sam muttered, "Watching the father figure of the group getting it on with Bones McCoy. This is totally a great idea. I probably won't be able to get it up long enough for a demonstration after seeing that."

"If that's true, then we are not going first," Ratchet warned.

"Oh come on!" Mikaela snorted rudely. "He's a teenager. Thinking about Pokémon could probably give him a hard on."

As interesting as that, and Sam's subsequent protests, was for his notes, Ratchet barely paid attention to it, instead sending a polite request to Optimus for a moment of his time.

Might as well get it over with. It wasn't a movie but it was more interesting than inventory.

* * *

"All right, you three stay over there," Ratchet ordered. "Occasionally, interfacing can cause a power surge that makes a limb move involuntarily and I don't want any of you to get hurt." The humans in the audience were sitting on a tall metal table, Bumblebee standing behind them and they looked like nothing so much as a group of bobble-head dolls as the three of them nodded in eager unison, two sets of eyes and one of optics watching them with wide interest.

Wonderful.

It's for your research, Ratchet reminded himself. No sacrifice is too great for science. None at all. He turned to look at his leader, already sitting on the floor behind him, and prepared to whore himself for science.

Optimus hadn't said a word since he'd arrived and Ratchet had informed him curtly of the situation, and to his credit, he had only nodded once and sat where Ratchet had indicated. Although with his battle mask up, who knew what that pervert was thinking.

Sam and Mikaela had seemed just this side of horrified that the great and dignified leader of the Autobots was going to give them a private show but Ratchet had no such illusions. Seeing him shrieking in overload just once usually squashed those delusions like a spoiled energon treat.

With a groan, Ratchet settled himself on the floor next to him, their arms just brushing. "Cable?" he grunted and Optimus silently pulled one free from his wrist, slapping in briskly into Ratchet's hand to let him plug it in to a data port on his own wrist.

It only took a moment to initiate an interface transfer and Ratchet relaxed into it, knowing exactly what the humans were seeing. Their optics would be flickering, their frames still and silent. A fan kicked on, Ratchet's, then Optimus's and with a slight shudder both finished their transfer.

Ratchet stretched with a sigh, handing Optimus back his cable. "There. Satisfied?"

Slowly, the baffled expressions of the humans changed to understanding, then dismay. Sam looked at Bee, then back at Ratchet, "That's it?"

"What were you expecting?" Ratchet sniffed. "We're ROBOTIC beings. When we share packets of data, we don't even require a hardline. Just makes it faster. Did you want us jabbing parts into each other and leaking lubricants everywhere like humans do?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam said. Mikaela elbowed him roughly but Sam was clearly disappointed in the rewards from Ratchet's end of the deal. "And now you expect us to put on a show for you with all the jabbing and junk, and that's all we got?"

"We gave you what you asked for," Ratchet said, smugly. "If it wasn't to your tastes, then next time you should work harder on negotiations."

"He's right, we should have made him throw in a show with Ironhide," Mikaela said, with a sad shake of her head. "Come on, we got what we wanted, let's go."

Sam muttered, "I at least wanted to see some robo-vag or something."

It didn't seem worth dignifying that with an answer. "I'll contact you about your demonstration sometime next week, after I prepare my equipment. I trust you'll have _your_ equipment ready?"

Muttered agreement and two humans, one grumbling and the other merely disappointed, climbed down from the work table and walked dejectedly away. The glare that Bumblebee extended to him as he followed his humans did not escape Ratchet's notice. The moment the humans were out the door he met that glare with a smirk and a single upraised finger of his own.

Optimus at least had the grace to wait until the door closed before finally breaking his silence, "And that doesn't seem like cheating to you?"

"Should it?" Ratchet smirked. "We did interface, did we not?"

"Technically, we did," Optimus agreed, his optics deep blue and amused, "But you are well aware that was not what the humans, nor Bumblebee, wanted to see."

"I kept my end of the bargain. I showed them what we look like when we are interfaced and that's what we agreed on. If Bumblebee wants to play games with the little humans that's his problem to figure out." He tilted a look at his Prime, "Why, Optimus, you almost seem disappointed. Don't tell me you were hoping for something else."

A much larger hand grabbed his own and dragged it against a heated panel and Ratchet yelped aloud in surprise, automatically cupping his hand around it as Optimus groaned. Beneath his startled fingers the panel slid open and a hard, hot spike extended, pressing slickly into his grip.

"Optimus Prime," Ratchet said, with mocking primness, "Did that idea heat you up?"

"Yes," Optimus rasped, with that perfect honesty. Just like Optimus, and that was probably why he'd kept silent while the humans were here. Primus knew it wouldn't have been the first time that innate honesty had ruined one of Ratchet's schemes, the fragger.

"You would have really shown them," Ratchet accused lightly. He tightened his grip, let Optimus's hard spike glide through his fingers, slicking them with lubricant.

"I would have," Optimus agreed, almost a moan. He let his mask slide away, finally, let Ratchet see the pleasure in his expression, his half-open mouth venting air hotly. "I would have spread your legs and taken you in front of them until you screamed for mercy from Primus himself."

"Then perhaps they should be grateful I spared them that," Ratchet said dryly, then yelped as Optimus's grip shifted, yanking him to sprawl in his Prime's lap. He barely had time for his equilibrium to settle before he was lifted, Optimus moving him as easily as a human might move a rag doll, to straddle his lap. His own interface panel was still closed, Optimus's spike jutting hard into it as though it was trying to penetrate his valve through the thin metal.

"Open," Optimus breathed it against his auditory sensor, drawing an answering shiver from Ratchet. "Open for me, let me…"

"I have…things to do…" Ratchet squirmed against his grip, deliberately writhing against the hot spike smearing lubricant into his plating. "I didn't promise _you_ anything."

"I don't need to bargain. You want me," Optimus gripped his hips tightly, forcing him to stay on his lap.

"Not me," Ratchet denied, smirking, adding a touch of real struggle. Not that he could get away from Optimus if he wanted to hold him and not that Optimus would hold him if Ratchet didn't want him to. Instantly, Optimus's grip tightened, edging into painful and the low growl that rose from his vocalizer made heat tingle through Ratchet like the first crackle of a lit energon line.

"Open," Optimus repeated, demanding, and finally, Ratchet obeyed, gasping as cool air caressed his heated valve, oh, so briefly as Optimus shifted beneath him, the wet, hard press of the tip of his spike chasing away any chill.

Always, always that first stretch bordered on pain, Optimus's spike almost too large for Ratchet to accept and always, he had to force himself to remain still, to relax, He was a medic, for Primus's sake, he knew his valve would stretch. It did, it always did, but that first push drew a soft cry from him, muffled into Optimus's soothing mouth.

"Relax," Optimus murmured, hot ventilations gusting against Ratchet's damp lips, begged him and Ratchet could only helplessly obey.

Primus, it felt good. The first long withdrawal almost a relief only to have sharp pain-pleasure stutter through his sensors as a hard thrust returned it to him. And again, Optimus driving into him with a slow, firm rhythm, his grip on Ratchet's hips keeping him still for each slow thrust even as Ratchet demanded more, harder, his words getting ragged and desperate, until finally, finally.

"Please!" Ratchet begged, nearly a sob, struggling so hard against Optimus's grip that he drove dents into his own hips.

Instantly, the concrete floor was hard against his shoulders, his stabilizers roiling as Optimus was abruptly above him, optics blazing as he finally thrust in hard, the clang of his hips against Ratchet as they rocked together echoing through the med bay.

Dimly, Ratchet was aware that he'd lapsed into pleading Cybertronian, his fingers scrabbling over Optimus, scratching paint as he struggled to hang on, pleading for more, Primus, _more_.

Overload struck with the force of a comet, his optics blazing white as he choked out a last shriek. He felt more than heard Optimus's roar, the vibration trembling through him even as hot transfluid spurted into his valve, the liquid wash spinning him back into pleasure and his keening cries fade into silence, his strained voice echoing nothing as Ratchet collapsed, quivering, against the floor.

Ratchet had to reset his vocalizer twice, before he could rasp out, "Why do organics always want to see that?"

Optimus propped himself up on his elbows, relieving Ratchet of some of his considerable weight, before pressing a soft kiss against his mouth, murmuring against Ratchet's parted lips. "Sexual curiosity is a universal constant."

* * *

"Hang on, guys, I forgot my keys," Mikaela said, searching through her purse. "Go on ahead, I'll meet you outside."

Both Sam and Bumblebee murmured agreement, their mutual disappointment drooping them both like sad little Charlie Brown trees. Even Bee's doorwings hung low, a testament to their failure.

"Okay, so it sucked, and we didn't get any ideas out of it," Mikaela mumbled to herself, jogging back to the infirmary, "Doesn't mean we can't have some fun together. Just because Sam and I can't plug anything in—"

A crashing sound gave her pause and Mikaela froze. What the hell? All her training to flee and find cover in case of a possible Decepticon attack fizzled completely away and with a sense of mingled dread and curiosity she pushed open the medbay door.

Oh, dear god.

At first, the noise alone was enough to stun her senses. It sounded like the din of a thousand cats fighting inside an enormous aluminum garbage can. Squeals and shrieks of metal against metal and holy shit, Optimus and Ratchet were fucking like this was some bizarre robo-Discovery channel special.

For just a second, she watched, greedily fascinated. Watched as Optimus shoved his huge metal cock into Ratchet's robo-vag, the very one that Sam had so wanted to see. Now this was a fucking show. It only took a second for reality to reassert itself and she hastily snatched up her phone and took several nice, clear pictures, silently thanking Bumblebee for the Cybertronian upgrade.

With a last heated look, she let the medbay door swing shut and trotted back down the hall to her friends.

"Work harder on negotiations, my ass," Mikaela whispered, triumphantly. Who needed to negotiate when they could just use a little blackmail?

"Let's go, guys," she called sweetly, to Sam and Bee, tucking her phone into her purse. Her keys would have to wait but that was okay, she suspected once she showed off her prize to them, they'd be back very soon. And the show was going to be a hell of a lot better, this time.

-fin


	2. Chapter 2

Title:For Educational Purposes Only #2: Electric Boogaloo  
Author: Keelywolfe  
Fandom: Transformers: Bayverse  
Pairing(s): mentioned Optimus/Ratchet, hinted Sam/Bee/Mikaela  
Warning: sticky

Notes: I'm sick at home with the flu. That's the only excuse I have for this. Please accept my apologies in advance. I recommend not drinking while reading. Spare your keyboards.

* * *

A full body exam was always pretty unnerving, no matter who the doctor was. Sitting there all cold in the little ass-baring gowns with nothing on but your socks? Major suckage. So how it was somehow worse to be laying fully clothed while a giant robot irradiated her with scans was something of a mystery. After ten minutes of silence and a freaking rainbow of light waves aimed her way, Mikaela had pretty much had enough.

Maybe it was time to speed Ratchet up a bit, unless his plan was for her to glow in the dark during the demonstration. "So explain to me why I need to get the exam _before_ the show? I thought you wanted scans during the sex. You know, for your weird porn science experiment."

Ratchet didn't even look up, although he did take a second to frown at whatever results his data pad was giving him. "If I don't have scans while you're in a relaxed state, then I won't have anything to compare my data to. And it's not weird."

Mikaela wondered if trying not to laugh would screw up Ratchet's scans worse than just giggling outright. Normally, she wouldn't care but it would be just her luck if he demanded to run the damned things again. "I notice that you don't say it isn't porn."

"The laws on that vary by country, state, and county," Ratchet said, almost absently. "I'm not entirely sure what the laws are in regards to this on our compound but I think it's better not to ask. Captain Lennox is a busy man."

"Yeah. Easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission." Not to mention that the very thought of trying to explain this one to Captain Lennox was pretty high on her list of 'things I never want to have to do.'

"Mmm," Ratchet agreed absently. "Human phrases are remarkably appropriate."

Another scan, this one some kind of aqua-blue that tingled; it was like she was getting irradiated with a laser form of peppermint. "I hope you aren't giving me any tumors or anything with this."

That got her an actual glare. Hey, progress. "Of course not," Ratchet groused. "Tumors take time to form. I couldn't be causing anything worse than minor cell mutation."

Mikaela blinked at that. "Uhhh-"

For the first time since she'd gotten there, Ratchet stopped what he was doing and gave her a full-on look. "I'm kidding! Do you honestly think I would endanger your health?"

He sounded almost hurt and, okay, she didn't_ really_ think Ratchet would hurt her.

Much.

"Of course not," Mikaela said, almost reluctantly. Ratchet grumbled and picked up his data pad again and Mikaela felt absurdly guilty for not trusting him. Seriously, Ratchet was borderline evil, so how was it he could give her that wounded look and make her feel bad when he was the one doing a light show over her DNA?

"You're done," Ratchet said finally. "I did Sam's scans earlier today. You do realize that you'll have to do your demonstration in the next twenty-four hours or I'll have to do the base readings again."

"I think Sam and I can manage to give you ten minutes of squishing noises in the name of science," Mikaela said, rolling her eyes. She sat up and gave Ratchet a considering look. It'd been three days since Ratchet and Optimus's so-called interfacing session, and now she and Ratchet were alone in the infirmary. Oh, the decisions a gal had to make when her future sex life was on the line. "Speaking of demonstrations, when do I get mine?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My real demonstration?" she prodded gleefully, "On mech interfacing? Since the last one was a little incomplete."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." How Ratchet of all mechs had perfected that look of owl-opticed innocence, Mikaela didn't know. Frankly, the time-space continuum should have been torn to shreds just by Ratchet _attempting_ to look innocent, much less achieving it.

Ratchet wanted better negotiations? Time for a little physical proof. Mikaela pulled out her cell phone and held it up, incriminating photo prominently displayed. She watched triumphantly as Ratchet's optics spiraled wide, taking in the tiny screen. "Ooh, looky here, what do I have? Is it a picture of Optimus doing a pelvic tango all over Ratchet, I do believe it is!"

Shock, disbelief, anger, who knew what emotions were flashing through him but she knew the second he turned away, his shoulders quivering, that he was trying not to laugh. Huh…that didn't seem promising. When he turned back, though, his expression was perfectly serious, bare of even a hint of amusement.

"I see. And exactly what are you planning on doing with your lovely photos and, by the way, when you have a chance, send me a copy, would you?"

Oh, for God's sake, couldn't he take anything seriously? "After I'm done blackmailing you."

Ratchet nodded. "Ah, good. I prefer my extortion to be direct. What do you want, then?"

"I want the real details, all of them, or I show this to Bumblebee and Sam."

Ratchet slouched back against one of the medical berths, crossing his arms over his chest. "What makes you think I care?"

Okay, and that was a valid point, but Mikaela had learned from her past mistakes. She gave him her own look of wide-eyed innocence. "Oh, you know how Sam and Bee are. They both have such a high opinion of Optimus. Everyone does. I would hate to see anything affect that. Like, say, finding this picture posted on the main bulletin board. I mean, I'm sure everyone would understand, an Autobot has needs-"

Ratchet held up a hand to stop her, his lips twitching, "Well done, child. I can tell we've been spending entirely too much time together. Your negotiations are getting better. Deal."

Oh, hell yes. "All right, so fess up. What was going on with this?"

"In that picture?" Ratchet considered, "I believe Optimus was trying to fuck me through the floor," he grimaced, pressing one hand against the small of his back. "I certainly have the dents to prove it. Good thing I like it a little rough."

Ookay, there was information on mech interfacing and then there was just waaaay too much information. Ignoring the heat pouring off her face, yeesh, she felt like her hair was about to ignite, Mikaela scowled at him. "Ha ha, seriously, _Doctor_, how do you guys get it on?"

Ratchet heaved a very put-upon sigh. "I can see you aren't going to make this easy. Let me lock the door this time and save any dubious honor I have remaining."

Probably a good idea. Mikaela watched as Ratchet pressed a few keys on the pad next to the door, a solid thunk signaling it was locked tight. At Ratchet's gesture, she scrambled down from the table and he sat on the floor, leaning against a wall, and spread his legs wide.

She was seriously going to see this. Ratchet was actually going to show her and embarrassment warred with eager curiosity as she stepped between his legs, creeping closer to peer at the panel she could see at his crotch-level.

"So Optimus has a robo-cock and you have the robo-vag. Does that make you like…a girl?"

Ratchet rolled his optics hard enough that she almost expected to hear gears grinding. "Oh, please. Stop thinking about it before you hurt yourself. Just let me explain, would you, and save the questions until they'll be useful."

With a soft whirring sound, the panel whisked aside and revealed two…ports? Something like that? Ratchet tapped them with one large finger. "While there may be minor differences in size or circumference, all Autobots have the same equipment. Observe."

And she did, holy shit, Ratchet just opened up and out jutted a metal cock right around the size of her arm. It was quite possible that if her eyes got any wider, they would fall out onto the floor and then she'd have to hear Ratchet bitch about putting them back in. "Wow, uh, that's quite a robo-cock you have there."

Ratchet made a face. "Could we please use the common term spike? Every time you say robo-cock, my processors make an association to Robocop and then I start thinking about Prowl. It's very disconcerting."

It looked weirdly human, only instead of skin it was covered in shiny, overlapping silver plates. Each one was etched with some sort of swirly design; whatever it was, she knew it wasn't language or at least not any form of Cybertronian she'd been shown so far. Kind of Celtic-looking, like something you'd see on a cheap ring at a mall gift shop. Only, you know, on a giant metal wang.

This was seriously weeeeeird.

Thin as the little interlocking plates looked to be, she couldn't help but wonder. "Don't those…er...catch on stuff when you…you know." She poked one finger in and out of her other cupped hand. Seemed like it was a universal signal of 'banging the hell out of someone' because Ratchet shook his head.

"No, they are quite smooth and everything is well lubricated." Mikaela gave a mental sigh of relief; just the thought of her lady bits getting caught up like that made her want to cross her legs from now until eternity. She'd just about figured she'd seen enough when Ratchet decided to up the ante from 'mildly embarrassing' to 'horrifyingly wrong' by adding, "Here, you can touch—" He reached for her and Mikaela scrambled back so quickly that she fell back on her ass, sprawled out on the tile floor with her wide eyes still locked between Ratchet's legs, as if it was going to jump off and chase after her like some kind of perverse weenie dog.

Ratchet snickered. "Who's shy now?"

Okay, that was a taunt she couldn't let pass. Defiantly, Mikaela stood up, dusted off her rear end and marched up between his legs to…yeah. She wilted, hands hovering uncertainly over Ratchet's…spike? Great name. Sounded like code for a serial killer.

One large finger touched her hand, encouragingly and she gave in, wincing a little at the feel of warm, living metal grazing her palm. "It's all right, I turned off the sensory input, and I won't feel a thing. Just touch right…Ohhh, baby, right there!"

Mikaela yanked her hand back as though the spike had sprouted fangs and gone for her fingers.

Ratchet was laughing outright now, like the huge robotic jerk that he was, oblivious to Mikaela's death glare. "I was only teasing, Mikaela, I promise, I can't feel it."

Well, you only live once. Tentatively, she ran one hand down the smooth plates. It felt silky, almost soft, if metal could be soft. And fucking huge, she could barely circle it with both hands. "So if someone did this with your sensors on, they could give you a handjob?"

"Oh, yes," Ratchet nodded, relaxing back against the wall. "Normally, lubricant would be extruding from underneath the plating but I didn't think you wanted a handful of my bodily fluids."

"Not particularly, thanks." Now that she was sure that Ratchet's robo-cock was playing nice, it was kind of interesting to check it out up close. Bumblebee has one of these, she couldn't help but think, and squashed the thought quickly. The last thing she needed was to get turned on by all this; Ratchet was better than a bloodhound when it came to sniffing things out and there was no way he'd let that go.

"What's with the design on it?" she asked, squinting at it. It really was etched deeply into the metal; she could feel the swirls under her fingertips.

Ratchet shrugged. "It's decorative—"

Seriously? Mikaela blinked at him. "Are you telling me that you have a tattooed dick?"

"Jealous?" Ratchet arched his optic ridge at her. "Essentially, yes, although it does serve another purpose."

"And that is?"

He smirked. "Buy yourself a dildo with the same patterns and get back to me."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Jesus, please us, Ratchet was a walking sex toy.

"Below the spike is my valve assembly. As I'm sure you've noticed, Autobots come in many sizes and so do spikes, but a valve is one size fits all. I'd invite you to inspect it but with the sensor input shut off, it might accidentally grip your hand too hard. You aren't metal and I'd rather not have to explain a valve related injury on your medical chart."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." She was still peering closely at the spike, "It looks really…human." Even the tip was slightly flared, like a circumcised man. Mikaela looked up. "Did you guys adapt that when you got here, too?"

She almost winced just from saying it, it sounded rude, somehow, but Ratchet only shook his head. "I can see how it would seem that way, but we didn't. It's one of the reasons I've been so fascinated with human sexual interaction. It's remarkable similar to our own. Even our pheromone configuration is comparable."

"Wow."

"Indeed. Mikaela, we've encountered dozens of sentient species but this is the first time we've found one with similarities to us. The main difference is that you reproduce sexually while we only enjoy the sensations of it."

"Biologically speaking, that seems weird. If you can't make baby bots, why would you even need to get busy?"

Ratchet shrugged. "I didn't design our frames, Mikaela, I only inhabit one." He fell silent for a moment, optics distant. "I wasn't trying to be cruel by not showing you how we have intercourse, Mikaela. Not completely. Bumblebee is very young. He hasn't had his interfacing protocols turned on yet."

Mikaela looked at him with narrow eyes. There was getting hit with a clue stick and then there was getting run over by the bus. Ratchet obviously knew the real reason they'd wanted to check out the mech version of sex and had no qualms about driving that bus. "He's old enough to be a soldier."

"He is," Ratchet agreed. "He's of age, Mikaela, and I could turn them on. But I won't lie to you; I'm concerned about him becoming involved with the two of you like that. To do it properly, he'd need a hardlight hologram generator and frankly, I don't have the time, the parts, or the inclination to help you with that. I won't stop you, but you'll have to figure it out on your own. And now, I do think that's enough of a demonstration."

Mikaela realized she was still groping him and hastily yanked her hands away, absently scrubbing them against her jeans. He retracted his spike, robo-cock, Mikaela's brain insisted and she snickered inwardly.

"Now, does that meet the terms of our agreement?" Ratchet asked, climbing to his feet with a groan.

Did it? Mikaela considered; on one hand, Ratchet had given up _some_ of the goods but on the other, her blackmail material was rather epic. It wouldn't be right if she didn't get her money's worth out of it.

"Before you decide, do you happen to see what is on the ceiling over there in the far corner?"

She squinted a little in the indicated direction. "Is that a security camera?"

Ratchet smirked, "Yes. Yes, it is."

Oh. Oh, shit. "And that's been there for a while, hasn't it."

"Yes, it has."

"So what you're saying is, there's already a full color video of you and Optimus getting it on?"

"Yes, several, actually, but I still do want a copy of those photos, the resolution was excellent." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her. "What you should be more concerned about, I do believe, is the full color video I have of you, fondling my…ah, what was the term you used before? Robo-cock?"

Well, Ratchet had told her he preferred his extortion to be direct. Resigned to the cruelness of fate, Mikaela sighed, "All right, doc, what do you want?"

Ratchet made a noise that could only be described as a tsk. "Oh, that would be too easy. Don't worry, you'll be hearing from me about it."

"I'll be waiting," Mikaela muttered. "You do realize that between rounds of blackmail, we're well on our way to becoming mortal enemies." Maybe this was how Superman and Lex Luther got started. Only without the giant metal dicks. Maybe.

Ratchet laughed out loud at that one. "Bring it, human."

Mikaela had to fight down her own grin. Oh, she was going to bring it. If Ratchet thought Optimus used him hard, he was going to be walking bent over for a week after she was done with him. He'd have to watch that video of him and Optimus just to remind himself what a gentle fucking was like. But that would have to be later, for now Mikaela flounced over to the door, her grand exit ruined by the fact that it was still locked.

"Can I go now, doc?" Mikaela sighed, and Ratchet snorted and shook his head, although he did unlock the door.

"Twenty-four hours, or I'll have to scan again," Ratchet repeated, holding open the large door for her. "And I'd like to remind you that the score is currently two to zero in your favor, as far as demonstrations go."

That was something, anyway. "So…?" Mikaela asked, warily. Both of them looked down the hallway, but no one was in sight.

"So I expect you to do better than ten minutes!" Ratchet whispered furiously. "Squishing noises are optional. Convince Sam that you need some extended foreplay or he's going to find a very interesting file in his email tomorrow."

For a being who didn't have balls, Ratchet certainly knew how to squeeze them. "Deal," Mikaela mumbled and took off down the hallway before Ratchet could think of anything else.

At least she'd gotten a little information. There were robo-cocks and robo-vags, Bumblebee certainly had both…and according to Ratchet, he was a virgin. Not bad for an afternoons work.

And this wasn't over, oh, no. Not by a long shot.

-fin-**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Title: For Educational Purposes Only #3: Third Time's the Charm  
Author: Keelywolfe  
Pairing(s): Sam/Mikaela, hinted Sam/Bee/Mikaela, Evil Voyeur Ratchet  
Warning: Interspecies

Notes: Something about having the flu makes me want to work on this series, I guess. That's the only excuse I have for this. Please accept my apologies in advance.

* * *

"All right, Sam, I have a few requirements to achieve the maximum amount of data," Ratchet said as he finished setting up his equipment. He would have preferred to run his scans in the medbay where everything he needed was easily within reach but Sam had been whining about petty things like his 'need for privacy' and his objections to 'public humiliation.'

Whatever. Sometimes a scientist had to bend to the needs of his subjects. Which was why he, his equipment, Bumblebee, and two semi-nude humans were currently crammed into the quarters that Sam and Mikaela shared. It was a lucky thing that Bumblebee often stayed with them, requiring larger human quarters than was the norm, or Sam's concerns about public humiliation would have been a moot point. Fitting his entire body into a room the size that the soldiers used would require an amount of flexibility that Ratchet hadn't possessed in millennia, not to mention there wasn't enough lubricant on base to grease him through those doors.

As it was, Ratchet couldn't exactly move without knocking over important things, like his scanning equipment or human bodies. Still, a scientist had to work with what he had and Ratchet was determined. These scans would be his, oh, yes. They would. All he had to do was sit here, hip to hip with Bumblebee, while the humans gave him at least eleven minutes of squelching noises. No matter how uncomfortable it was, he was getting those scans.

"You know, 'Bee, you don't _have_to hang around. I'm sure there something else you could be doing right now," Ratchet muttered as he tried, again, to squirm in a way that would somehow change the laws of physics and give him a little more room. The time/space continuum stubbornly refused to bend to his will and all he got was a few more paint scrapes as his plating rubbed against Bee's.

His question didn't fare much better. The harsh blat of static he got in response might have seemed like nonsense to the humans but Ratchet was grudgingly impressed with the amount of obscenity that Bumblebee could fit in one burst. Obviously Ironhide had been making good use of his free time by spending it with the younger crowd.

Resigned to his fate, Ratchet settled back against the wall. Speaking of resigned to fate, Sam was sitting glumly on the end of the bed, one end the sheet wrapped firmly around his waist. The other end was covering Mikaela, who was lounging lazily back, one smooth leg bared and drawn up so she could rub her toes on Sam's bare arm. Not that the boy seemed to appreciate it; his eyes were firmly on the floor and Ratchet suspected that if he could actually get to the door, Sam might have bolted through it, sheet trailing behind him and never mind that Mikaela would left naked behind him.

Surreptitiously, Ratchet stretched out one leg to block the kid's retreat. There was no way he was letting Sam out of this now and if he didn't want to be paying Mikaela's blackmail then he'd better find a new girlfriend, stat. The way Ratchet and the girl were starting out, they would be extorting each other through her next lifetime. It was something to look forward to...

"Now, Sam," Ratchet began, studying his data pad. The readings he was getting now were already micropiks away from his comparison scans earlier in the day. Probably he'd need to compensate for Sam's nervousness. "I need for Mikaela to orgasm at least twice. Three times would be preferable but twice would do for a base reading."

"No pressure or anything," Sam mumbled, shuffling his bare feet against the floor.

Ratchet ignored that. From the pheromone levels he was already reading, if the kid didn't get two orgasms out of Mikaela, Ratchet was going to recommend he take a remedial training course. He was sure he'd seen some ads on the internet that Sam could benefit from. "I'd prefer to get two orgasm scans from you as well but I'm aware of the limitations of human males so I'll settle for one."

"Thanks a load," Sam grouched. "I'm totally sorry that I can't come on command for you."

"Now, now, there's no reason to be snide," Ratchet said smoothly, "You did get your demonstration." He ignored the eye roll that Mikaela graced him with. That girl had gotten a good handful of a Ratchet's private parts in a very personal demonstration of her own and that was certainly worth a quickie.

Everything was a go, he was ready, the kids were squirming, or at least Sam was. Ratchet was about to tell them to get on with it when Sam blurted out, "Is watching this going to make you all hot and horny?"

Ratchet flickered his optics, surprised, "I don't—"

But Sam hadn't finished, words spilling out of him like an oil leak, "Because I don't think I can do this if it's going to make you all horny, I mean, you didn't want us to masturbate over you because that's just freaky but I don't want you to do it either—"

"Sam—"

"And it was a little weird watching you with Optimus even if we didn't see any robo-vag—"

"Sam, I don't—" Ratchet tried, a little bemused. Trying to interrupt was nearly as effective as trying to take down a Decepticon with one of those little plastic forks the humans used. Mikaela looked equally confounded and he gave her a little shrug, turning on his scanners to keep track of just how long the boy could go without a breath.

"Not that I really wanted to see any robo-vag, I mean, at least not your robo-vag, not that there would be anything wrong with you having a robo-vag, or you and Optimus doing it, it's wrong but it's not_wrong_wrong, you know and—"

With a neat demonstration in that cleverness that Ratchet had come to appreciate in her, Mikaela finally shut him up with her own mouth, her tongue a visible flicker of pink and Ratchet brightened, scanning eagerly as Sam's pheromones surged. Worryingly high, actually, the way he was trending, instead of getting scans of two humans in coitus, he was going to be getting a visual of soggy sheets and a sheepish apology.

"As I was saying," Ratchet interrupted, loud enough that Sam jumped and almost lost his grip on the sheet. Pity, that, he could have gotten a hilarious picture to exchange with Mikaela for the ones of him and Optimus that she had thus far refused to share. "I'm researching, not participating." He hesitated. "Don't take this the wrong way but it would be comparable to your levels of arousal from watching a nature show on squirrels mating, something like that."

"Squirrels?" Mikaela echoed, her eyebrows drawn together in an expression Ratchet had come to recognize as confusion. Honestly, if he'd thought Optimus would allow it, he could have paid a few professionals to come by and he would have his scans by now. But, no, the Lennox had vetoed that one before Ratchet could even form a rebuttal, and he'd gotten an interesting lesson in how many no's a human could get out in single minute.

"Lions, then, eagles, whatever your preferred form of bestial intercourse!" Ratchet said impatiently. At Sam's sudden surge of hormones Ratchet amended, hastily, "Or perhaps somewhat less than your level of arousal."

He did add another note to his research file; human males really did become aroused by anything.

"But you will get a little turned on," Sam said, quietly, fidgeting with the edge of the sheet.

Honesty warred with a need to make the kid get on with it. Optimus seemed to be rubbing off on him, and not in the good, sexy way because in the end, Ratchet reminded himself that he was, actually, on the side of good and settled for honesty. "I can't shut down my interfacing protocols and maintain scanning at the level that I want at the same time, I just don't have the processing power for that. It's possible that your pheromone levels may cause some slight arousal in me. However, I promise I won't be masturbating in the corner. This isn't some multi-species orgy going on here, it's for science."

Sam finally raised his eyes to Ratchet and for just a moment, he weakened, his processors wibbling at emotions visible in that clear, dark gaze. The nervousness, the pink staining his cheeks. Humans were so different from them; they had issues with privacy that no Cybertronian possessed, and if Sam was truly going to be traumatized by this, his code of ethics could not allow it.

But before he could reluctantly let Sam off the hook, the boy nodded once, his expression firming. "All right, then let's get on with it."

"Sweet talker," Mikaela drawled, a smile curving her full lips before she leaned in and kissed Sam again. A little hesitantly, his hands sliding over skin and Ratchet leaned in, his optics spiraling wide to take in every detail. His hydraulics whirred as he moved, loud in the small room and Sam broke the kiss to give Ratchet a glare.

Ratchet met the glare unapologetically. He hadn't protested when Sam had insisted on such irrelevant details as mood music and lit candles, even though it forced him to compensate for the dimmer light. He wasn't about to apologize for his very existence.

Fortunately, Mikaela was not about to let such things interfere with her pursuit of orgasms and she firmly grabbed Sam's head and directed it back to more important things, like her own mouth.

Moments passed, human hands sliding over bared skin and the pheromones they exuded went through a cascade of variations, each one dutifully noted and documented in Ratchet's processors.

"Fascinating," he murmured, noting that Mikaela's arousal spiked when Sam's hand drifted down to her breast, even though it was still covered by the sheet. Without even direct contact, very similar to their species—

Sam broke the kiss again with a loud groan, "Look, Spock, I can't do this if you're going to be talking."

Ratchet bristled. "I am not talking, I am simply observing!"

"Seriously, you have got to keep quiet," Sam said, burying his extremely red face into Mikaela's shoulder. Interesting how he didn't mind sacrificing her nakedness to Ratchet's inspection. Masculine pride, perhaps, directing him to smugly convey the attractiveness of his chosen mate?

Interesting, but not exactly what Ratchet wanted to be researching right at this moment. "I am being quiet! Any sounds I make are well beneath any level that should prove to be distracting!"

"Take my word for it, they aren't!" Sam shot back. His embarrassment seemed tempered by his irritation and he managed to glare at Ratchet over Mikaela's shoulder.

Ratchet vented a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, I'll try to be silent."

Mikaela, for her part, was shaking her head. "Can we please get on with this?"

It was entirely possible Sam had other protests to offer. Whatever they were, they were quickly forgotten as Mikaela let the sheet slide downward to pool at her hips, baring her body from the waist up. Ratchet happily noted the male human's suddenly wider eyes, the flare of his body heat registering brilliantly in the scans, before he directed his attention to Mikaela...and abruptly noticed the new additions to her body.

Rings of metal pierced the all-too tender flesh of her nipples, glinting against the golden tones of her skin.

Ratchet promptly forgot his promise to keep silent, gritting out, "You did not have those yesterday."

"No, I got them last night," Mikaela smiled sweetly, widening her eyes in a perfect mimicry of innocence. "They won't interfere with the scan, will they?"

"No," Ratchet said shortly. Oh, he had underestimated her. Just the sight of the metal against her skin, piercing the delicate flesh, stimulating her arousal...but not her pain receptors. A quick scan revealed that the tiny injuries were completely healed and this time it was Bumblebee who shifted awkwardly, his door wings scraping the wall as they tried to flutter with his discomfort.

"You stole my dermal regenerator?" Ratchet hissed at Bee accusingly.

Bee met his annoyance with innocence that was far more believable than Mikaela's had been. _::I had to! She'd already done it and I didn't want her to get an infection. I put it right back when I was finished, I promise.::_

Ratchet huffed out an annoyed vent of air. Naive, Bumblebee and the boy, both. They didn't stand a chance against a force like her. How she'd known it would affect him, Ratchet could only speculate. The fact of the matter was that she had and Ratchet forced himself to sit mutely, watching as Mikaela flicked little glances at him from beneath her lashes, running her slim fingertips over her own body while Sam only sprawled beneath her, mute and frozen as he watched as intently as Ratchet.

Well, if she thought that was going to distract him from his scans then...she was exactly right. It was the way they gleamed in the flickering candlelight. The way she toyed with them, catching the rings between her fingertips and plucking at them. Sucking on one finger and running the wet digit over them, even as she arched her hips against Sam, preparing to mate with Sam just as Ratchet had requested.

And Ratchet, who was supposed to be observing humans mating was instead all but squirming as his arousal protocols surged, his optics glued on the soft bounce of her breasts as Mikaela moved over her boyfriend. On those tiny, golden rings of metal, delicate and lovely against her strange human skin and his processors were more focused on coming Optimus the moment they were done to meet him somewhere private, on keeping his interfacing protocols from surging loudly online and-

Bumblebee was still crammed next to him, watching his human friends couple right in front of his optics. Curious, certainly, but unaroused, his protocols still offline. It was something Ratchet could fix with a quick code rewrite in barely a klik of time. Bumblebee hadn't asked him to...yet. But the way he was watching spoke of more than casual interest. In that silent gaze was bittersweet yearning, shifting emotions that Bumblebee had little skill in disguising from Ratchet. Who was sitting here all but trembling with arousal when the one mech who _should_be wanting them was not and abruptly that seemed utterly wrong, an obscenity even amongst perversion.

Over a private line, Ratchet demanded, _::Have you watched them before?::_

_::You're researching them, not me.::_Bumblebee replied. Hardly a no.

Normally, interfacing protocols were turned on when a mech had a partner they wanted to interface with. Bumblebee couldn't be with his humans just yet, though Ratchet knew he wanted to, they all wanted to...he bit off a sigh and firmly set his own arousal aside. The things a medic had to deal with.

_::Bee, come here.::_

Warily, he did, leaning towards Ratchet. He flinched away as Ratchet snatched up his wrist and flicked open his panel, ignoring Bee's warbled protest as he plugged into him.

_::Ratchet, I'm not really interested in you—:: _A little panicked.

_::Hush.::_

"Wait, you promised—" Sam's voice broke on a moan, Mikaela had him pinned to the bed now, her hips moving urgently and Ratchet took a moment to mourn the loss of his chance to scan a human mating as he searched through Bumblebee's protocols...there.

He felt the surge through Bee's circuits, the brilliant flare of previously unknown arousal and it was all focused on the little humans in front of them. Briefly, he glimpsed Bee's emotions, the flick, flick, flick as they surged through _arousal/love/arousal/need _before he shunted them away. This was medical, not so that _he_could get off and he couldn't see explaining to Optimus that, yes, he'd been Bumblebee's first interface, in a cramped human room right in front of said humans, why do you ask?

_::Ratchet, please…::_Bee whimpered over a private line, desperately. Begging for something he had never before felt.

_::Like this::_Ratchet showed him, kept their link clinical and emotionless as he showed Bumblebee.

The little scout arched desperately next to him, his spike releasing for the first time and the humans were already crying out, his soft whimpers joining theirs as he reached his first climax without even touching it, overwhelmed by his desire for these humans.

Resolutely, Ratchet shuttered his optics and firmly did not watch as he felt the humans slowly stir, felt them move slowly over to Bumblebee to press their cooling bodies against his plating and the next time someone said Ratchet had no discretion, he was going to bang them over the head with the heaviest wrench he could find.

"Doc?" Sam asked, his voice softly bewildered and Ratchet sighed. So much for his research.

"All right," Ratchet grumbled, "I'll try to help you three."

Maybe he could study interspecies sexual relations, instead.

tbc


End file.
